


More Than a Kiss

by QuothTheRaven_Nevermore



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, azriel and elain are in this for like one second
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 17:53:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11257935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuothTheRaven_Nevermore/pseuds/QuothTheRaven_Nevermore
Summary: Set after ACOWAR (spoilers).Nesta spends all her time locked in her room, refusing to see or talk to anyone, especially Cassian. But Cassian, mind still reeling from the kiss they shared, is determined to bring Nesta back into his life.





	More Than a Kiss

For weeks after the war, after Hybern, all everyone did was mourn, the dead, the lost, that which could never be replaced. They mourned those that sacrificed it all for a better tomorrow, even if they would never live to see it. But slowly, they remembered how to live again, how to enjoy the things that once occupied their spare time.  

Feyre held a paintbrush in her hand again, even if the other had an iron grip on Rhysand at all times. Elain planted her small garden even if the  tools, once silver but now dull with time and use, sometimes made her cry because they reminded her so much of the iron her engagement ring was forged from.  Mor spent all her time out in the city basking in the joyous music and magnificent buildings, ignoring the lingering pain she felt every time the music faded and left her alone with her thoughts. Azriel, the stubborn bastard, started flying around in the skies trying to regain the strength in his wings weeks before the healer said he should, even if it was just to avoid talking about anything or to anyone, to avoid going to the Illyrian camps and seeing how few others were left. Hell, even Amren found a way to occupy her time when Varian left to Adriata and she couldn’t spend all day in her room with him. Amren would venture into the bottom of the library and find the oldest, dustiest books that hadn’t seen the light of day in decades and centuries and try to read them ,even if her grasp of the ancient, forgotten language grew weaker by the day.

Cassian watched as his friends seemed to reanimate, become substantial after weeks of wandering around like little more than spirits. All of his friends...except one. He wasn’t even sure if that’s what she could be called, she hated him with her entire being and he was pining after her like he was fifteen years old again, scrawny and awkward, with a crush on a High Fae.

In all these weeks, Nesta had barely left her room.  The first few days back she was with them, but one day she abruptly got up and locked herself in her room. On the rare occasion when she did leave her room, it was only to eat and ignore anyone who saw her. Cassian tried to get her to say something, do _anything_ at all, feeble attempts at small talk that she would barely acknowledge. Even her anger seemed to have vanished, her temper and quick-tongue gone completely.

Eventually, Cassian threw himself into sparring with Rhysand for so many hours of the day that he only had time left in the day to sleep and eat. He stopped hoping that Nesta would come out and talk to him, or anyone. Cassian even stopped hoping to see her as a fleeting shadow wandering around the house on the odd occasion she left her room.

“Same time tomorrow?” Rhysand asks as he picks up his shirt from where it lay folded on a chair. Cassian laughs, “It’s not like I have much else to do.”

“Did all the women in Velaris finally get tired of you?” Rhysand jokes. “I’m surprised it took them this long.”

Feyre laughs from the doorway where she appeared a minute ago. There’s fresh paint on her hands and under her fingernails.

“Ass,” Cassian replies as he drops into one of the chairs in front of the table that face the city. He stretches out and lets the sun and faint wind dry the sweat on his skin. Feyre and Rhysand’s voices fade as they walk into the house and undoubtedly into their room.

Cassian lets out a content sigh as the sound of the city floats up to him. From up here, he can hear the sounds of laughter and vivid conversations. Cassian closes his eyes and breathes in deep as he relaxes. His muscles ache but he doesn’t mind. It feels good to finally be able to move without worrying about any injuries.

Every now and then he can hear the sound of Azriel’s powerful wings beating in the distance. But it’s not the sound of wings that make Cassian sit up. It’s the sound of quiet, cautious feet on the balcony above him.

He looks up and sees Nesta leaning against the railing, the fabric of her blue dress slightly blowing in the wind. He breathes her name and knows she hears it by the way she stiffens but she doesn’t even look.

After a moment she turns around and walks back into her room. When Cassian goes back inside the house a while later he's not sure if he imagined it or not.

For the next week as Cassian rests outside he hears, and occasionally sees, Nesta standing on her balcony, just looking out toward the city. Apart from the first day, Cassian hasn’t tried to talk to her. Nesta hasn’t tried to talk to him either and has hardly acknowledged him. Sometimes Cassian catches himself watching her as she watches the city. If Nesta notices him watching she doesn’t say anything to Cassian. 

Today she's wearing a pink gown that billows as the wind blows. As she turns to leave, she looks at Cassian, who is already staring at her. Cassian doesn’t say a word as she turns around and walks back into her room.

At dinner it almost feels like before. Mor is trying to keep wine from coming out of her nose, Feyre and Amaren are practically wheezing with laughter as Rhysand tells a story about Miryam and Drakon. Azriel is nodding along, adding bits and pieces as Rhys tells it. Even Elain is giggling behind her hand as the spymaster looks at her like she's the sun. Cassian soaks it in, the fact that they can laugh at all after everything they've done. He knows everyone else does too by the looks on their faces, like they're breathing fresh air for the first time in their lives, like their heads are finally above water.

But everyone's head keeps turning to the empty chair next to Amren. Cassian can't even remember the last time Nesta ate with them. It must have been before the war. As Rhysand finishes his story and the laughter dies down the room seems to fill with unspoken words.

“Someone needs to talk to that girl,” Amren says breaking the tension. Her gray eyes are sad as she looks at the seat beside her. “I haven't seen her since we first got back.”

“We've tried,” Feyre says, her shoulders slumping, “But she won't come out.”

“Have Elain try,” Rhysand suggests. “She's always been able to convince Nesta.”

“I tried,” Elain says quietly. “She told me to get the hell out of her room and not come back.”

Cassian a brows lift. She said that to _Elain_ ? Elain that Nesta protected more than anyone else?

“Well someone needs to do something,” Mor says as she takes another drink of her wine. “Cass, you try.”

“Me?” Cassian asks. “Why?”

“Maybe she'll talk to you,” Mor says. “Because-”

“I didn't realize,” comes a voice that cuts her off, “that all these conversations were about me. I should be flattered.”

The entire table falls silent as Nesta grabs a plate and starts to fill it with food. She’s leaning over her chair, making it obvious that she’s not going to stay and eat with them.

“Do you want to sit?” Feyre asks a bit too enthusiastically.

Nesta just gives her a look and continues to pile food on her plate.

Everyone at the table is dead silent as Nesta moves. Most of them are trying to keep a semblance of eating, pushing food around or taking small bites. Elain on the other hand is openly gaping at Nesta as she throws food on her plate with increased hostility. Cassian notices Nesta’s jaw twitching in irritation and her hands slightly trembling.

Suddenly, she slams her plate down on the table, “Will you all quit looking at me!”

Feyre’s head snaps down toward her food as Nesta marches back upstairs empty handed.

Even from here Cassian can hear her stomach growling but she doesn’t stop and no one else moves until they hear her door slam. Cassian looks around and sees that most of his friends are standing up and putting their plates in the sink. Feyre and Elain are cleaning them, their heads close as they speak to each other quietly.

Cassian waits in the living room, pretending to rest as everyone else slowly filters out. It only takes them a few minutes. When no one is looking Cassian picks up Nesta’s plate and walks up to her room with it.

Tentatively, he knocks on her door. A minute passes and no one answers. Cassian knocks again.

“Nesta,” he says, “It’s me, Cassian. I brought you dinner.”

When she doesn’t say anything Cassian sets the plate down on the floor and starts to walk away. Most nights, Cassian knows she sneaks downstairs when everyone else is already in their rooms and eats. He knows it can't be very satisfying eating cold leftovers alone in the middle of the night every night.

As he nears the end of the hall he hears a very quiet, “Thank you.”

When he turns back around all he sees is the door to Nesta’s door closing.

The next morning Rhys goes up to Cassian as he’s eating breakfast.

“Feyre wants to go out to the art shops today,” Rhysand says, “So I won’t be able to practice.”

Cassian nods, “Good. My old bones need a minute to rest.”

Rhysand laughs as he walks toward the front door where Feyre is waiting.

At midday Cassian finds himself going outside even if Rhys isn’t there to train with him. He does easy stretches and flies for a while before he lands. Landing in one of the chairs built to accommodate wings Cassian stretches out. He’s dozing off when he hears feet against the ground. For a second he thinks it’s Nesta on the balcony but the footsteps sound much too close and when he opens an eye to look, Nesta isn’t there.

Cassian shoots up and gets ready to attack, his heart racing in his chest. When he sees Nesta standing there he stops. Cassian blinks at her while his mind tries to catch up to what he’s seeing. Her eyes are wide and she looks like she was about to throw herself behind the table for protection.

“Nesta,” Cassian says. “I-I'm sorry. For a second I thought...nevermind. I'm sorry.”

“You thought I was a soldier,” Nesta says.

Cassian nods ashamed. “Yes. I know it's stupid, we defeated Hybern and I should be over it-”

“It's not stupid,” Nesta days quietly as she brings a chair from the table and places it next to Cassian. She sits on the edge of it, like she might leave any second. “I know what you mean. Every time I'm in the bathtub, I have to hold onto the sides. Or else I'm afraid I'll fall in. I used to not be able to even get inside.” She blushes like she's embarrassed about what she said. “I know it's not like what you did. The Cauldron wasn't the same as a battle-”

“Nesta,” Cassian says. “You don't have to be embarrassed. I get it. Completely.” Cassian swallows, mentally preparing himself to talk. When he finally does his voice sounds more hoarse than he would like. “After we came back from Hybern after my wings had healed I couldn't let anyone near them, not even the healer at first. She had to sedate me every time so when I felt her hands I wouldn't try to fight. I never let Rhys or Az go into the healer’s room with me. I didn't want them to see. And even after I was here, in Velaris, I didn't open my wings for weeks. I was afraid that if I did something would happen to them again. Sometimes I still feel like that.”

Nesta doesn't say anything but her eyes soften as she repositions herself on the chair. For a second Cassian thinks she's leaving. He really hopes she doesn't. Instead of leaving she just settles into the large chair, letting her head rest against the back.

“I’m sorry if I scared you,” she says quietly after a while.

“It's okay,” Cassian says. “It's your home too.”

For once Nesta doesn't say anything venomous about living here. All she does is nod. “It's finally starting to feel like it.”

Cassian's eyes flick to her briefly but he doesn't say anything, afraid that he'll ruin whatever is happening.

After another long silence Cassian gets the courage to speak.

“Nesta, about what happened in Hybern, before Elain reached us…” No one has brought the kiss up since it happened. Not Feyre, not himself, and definitely not Nesta.

She stiffens and, in a clipped tone, replies, “Nothing happened.”

Cassian's jaw clenches. “Nesta you and I-”

Nesta shoots up and says, “You know what? I'm not feeling well. I won't be downstairs for dinner like I planned. You can explain why to Feyre.”

“Nesta!” Cassian says getting up and trying to make her stay. She ignores him and her hears her footsteps as she goes back to her room.

True to her word, Nesta is absent at dinner. Feyre looks upset by it but when Elain asks her about to she gives a tight smile and says it was a fool's hope anyway. Cassian feels terrible but can't bring himself to tell her why just yet.

“Feyre,” Cassian says as he finds her on the roof late at night, staring at the stars.

She turns and smiles. “Hey, Cass.”

He returns the smile but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. Feyre notices.

“What's wrong?” She asks.

“At dinner. Nesta wasn't there,” Cassian says lamely.

“No,” Feyre says sadly. “She wasn’t.”

“It's my fault,” Cassian admits.

“How?”

Quickly, so he doesn't back out, Cassian tells her that he saw Nesta and she sat down next to him. “I brought up the kiss and she got upset and said she wasn't going to come down tonight. I'm really sorry, Feyre.”

“It's okay,” Feyre says gently, sadly. “Nesta probably wasn't going to come down anyway and she needed a reason to avoid it. I'm glad that she's at least talking to someone.”

Cassian gives Feyre another tight smile before saying goodnight and going up to his room and lying down in bed. His last thought before falling asleep is the feeling of Nesta’s mouth on his own.

Cassian doesn't see Nesta after practice with Rhysand again. Weeks pass and she's nowhere to be seen. Until one day she comes down to the dining room. She sits in the empty chair next to Amren and Elain and starts eating.

After their initial shock, everyone starts talking again. Feyre tells a story of when she and Mor accidentally fell into the Sidra that Nesta almost smiles at. Almost. The ghost of it is on her lips and that's more than any of them could have asked for.

“Cassian,” Rhysand says a few days later.

Cassian, who was in the middle of setting up the sparring ring, looks up.

“Sorry but I can't train today. Helion says he's mortally wounded and needs immediate help.”

Cassian raises an eyebrow, having heard this from Helion before.

“He's hungover and wants to have a very late breakfast,” Rhysand explains. “He says that all of his other friends are either sleeping the hangover off or in a near-comatose state of drunkenness.”

Cassian snorts. “Give him my best.”

Rhysand laughs and winnows away.

Cassian puts everything back where it was before and looks up to the sky. Az is gone today. He mentioned something about taking Elain on a tour of Velaris. Another tour. Cassian wonders when one of them will finally just kiss the other. Amren is off with Varían again and Mor is probably trying to paint with Feyre even though she's absolutely rotten at it.

Cassian sits on the chair and looks out toward the city. He can see the river shining brightly and the vibrant colors of the buildings. As he's observing the city he hears someone behind him. They make their entrance obvious.

Cassian turns, expecting Mor. It’s Nesta. He sits up straighter as she sits in the chair next to Cassian that no one bothered to move back into place.

Cassian wants to stay quiet but he can't for long. “Nesta.”

She stiffens and she knows what he's going to ask.

“We have to talk about it eventually.”

“No we don't.”

“Yes,” Cassian says, “We do. It wasn't just a kiss.”

“Yes,” she says angrily. “It was. And if you don't shut the hell up I'll make you.”

“Nesta, we have something and you know it.”

“No we don't.”

“That's why you're out here. Next to me. Even though you say you hate me.”

“I'm out here because even my room gets boring. Anything else you think happened is fabricated.”

“You were ready to die for me,” Cassian says.

Nesta hesitates before answering, “Yes.”

“You were ready to die with me”

“Yes.”

“You were ready to die with me in your arms, and you're telling me there's nothing at all between us.”

“Yes.”

“ _You kissed me_!” Cassian says.

“No, _you_ kissed _me_ and I let you because you were dying and I thought I was going to die too. So don't ever think it was anything more than a kiss of pity for a dying _bastard_ !” Nesta says, her words like physical blows. “Why else would I _ever_ kiss you? A bastard born Illyrian _waste of a life_ who only rose out of the mud because a High Lord’s son took pity on him? Don’t ever think that anything you’ve ever had or will have is due to something other than pity. That’s what’s kept you here so long! Why do you think he’s out with Helion right now instead of you? He’s with someone who is actually worthy of being in his company! I may have been Made but I am still levels above you, you _bastard_ ! So don’t _ever_ think that any kindness I’ve ever shown you hasn’t been out of pity. Especially that fucking kiss!” Nesta spits her words like venom and Cassian flinches. She cut deep and she knows it.

“Nesta Archeron you're a liar and a coward!” Cassian says, eyes blazing. “You’ve run from everyone that’s ever cared for you and now you’re doing the exact same thing! Where has that left you? Alone and locked in your fucking room because you’re too scared to see what a fucking mess you’ve made of it all. Your sisters are terrified of you and everyone else barely tolerates you and if you don’t get your shit together you’re going to live the rest of your immortal life alone and lonely wishing that you hadn’t burned every bridge you’ve come across. You’re bitter and angry and your own _father_ didn’t even love you enough to care if you lived or died! And _you’re_ talking to _me_ about pity? The only reason Rhysand keeps you here is because Feyre asked him to and they both know you have nowhere else to go! So the next time you want to talk to me about pity, think of your own damn self first.”

Nesta turns around to leave, hurt and a burning anger filling her eyes. She looks like she's been slapped. Cassian's never seen that look on her face and he knows that he just crossed a line. Her hands are trembling as she hurries into the house and slams the door hard enough to rattle the windows.

A significant part of Cassian wants to go after her, apologize on his knees if he has to, but a larger part is hurt and angry at what she said. Cassian stays where he is for a while until he feels the anger drain out of him, replaced with shame and regret. He lies back down in the chair and tries to get the image of Nesta crying out of his head, the absolute loathing in her eyes. He puts his head in his hands and wonders what the fuck he’s going to do now.

At dinner Nesta doesn’t come down and Cassian barely eats, picking at his food and avoiding eye contact with Feyre and Elain. They don’t notice, too absorbed in staring at the staircase hoping to see their sister walking down. Cassian excuses himself early and goes out to the roof.

Rhys finds him in the chair hours later once the sun has gone down and the only lights are the ones from the stars. One look at his face has him sitting in Nesta’s chair and asking, “What happened?”

Cassian wants to say that nothing happened but he finds his mouth opening although nothing comes out. Cassian just asks Rhysand to have a look for himself and feels his friend in his mind.

“You really fucked up this time,” Rhysand says once he’s seen it all.

“I know,” Cassian laments as he lets his head flop back down into his hands. “I feel terrible. And I don’t even want to think about telling Feyre, she’ll probably scalp and burn me right there.”

Rhysand doesn’t disagree just says, “I’ll talk to her, show her what you showed me. Feyre loves Nesta but she’ll understand, eventually.”

Cassian nods, “Thank you.”

“Of course, you’re my brother. That’s what I do,” Rhysand says as he walks quietly back into the house.

Cassian spends the night outside, listening to the city. When it dies down Cassian listens to the whipping of the wind and animals. When the sun finally starts to come up he trudges up to his room and sits on the edge of his bed. He lies down and closes his eyes, hoping the horrible feeling in his gut will let him sleep even for a little bit.

The sun is still barely rising when Cassian opens his eyes again. He doubts it’s been more than an hour. Cassian sits up and runs a hand over his face. He has to apologize to Nesta. The thought of all he said yesterday has him feeling like he’s going to be sick.

Dragging himself out of bed he changes clothes and walks to Nesta’s door.

Softly he knocks three times.

“Go away, Cassian!” Nests screams at him from the other side.

“Nesta,” Cassian says desperately. “Please.”

“Go the fuck away!”

“Please, I’m here to apologize. After that if you want to spit in my face and slam the door that’s okay. I won’t bother you again, just let me say this one thing please.”

There’s silence from the other side and Cassian thinks she won’t open the door. As he starts to walk down the hall he hears her doorknob turning. The door swings open but Nesta doesn’t come out.

Cassian cautiously walks up to her door and looks inside. Nesta is looking out toward the city, her back turned to Cassian. He walks in and closes the door behind her.

  
“Nesta,” Cassian says quietly. “I...I’m sorry.”

“You told me I wasn’t wanted here, that my father didn’t love me, and that pity was the only thing keeping me off the streets.”

“I’m sorry,” Cassian says again. He wishes he could say something else but he doesn’t know what to say.

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it,” Nesta says coldly. “You’re acting like you told me my shirt was ugly, my hair was messy. Sorry is for when you step someone’s shoes. Not for when you tell someone they’re living off of pity.”

“What do you want me to say?” Cassian asks her. “And it’s not like you were a complete sweetheart either. You told me I was only here because Rhysand felt pity. You knew how I was treated because of who I was and you threw that back in my face by spitting ‘bastard’ at me. So don’t act like you’re some kind of saint.”

Nesta doesn’t look at him as she starts to walk out. Cassian is kicking himself. Why does he always fuck it up?

“Nesta!” Cassian says, scrambling and running after her.

He expects her to keep walking, to leave him alone with his guilt, but to his surprise she stops. She turns around, tears slowly rolling down her face.

“Nesta,” Cassian says again, gentler this time. “I'm sorry. I just- I was hurt, by what you said. I know that I shouldn’t have said the things I did and believe me when I say I’m so, _so_ sorry for bringing your father into this. But you can't ignore the people that care about you, the people that are trying to help you. You can't keep running away. We've all lost something. And now we're desperately trying to heal, together. Nesta, I know you probably hate me and that’s okay you don’t have to talk to me but _please_ talk to someone. Feyre, Elain, Amren, the fucking lady that runs the sweet shop in town I don’t care but please, don’t just lock yourself in your room. I was lying when I said no one cared about you. I do. I care so much. I know I hurt you and I know you've lost so much, trust me I did too. I lost brothers and sisters out there on the battlefield. You're not the only one that’s lost someone, so please just know that you can talk to any of us, at any time.”

“I didn't lose something,” Nesta says, “I lost _everything.”_ Tears shine in her eyes as she paces around her room, hands clenched into fists, like it will help her concentrate, keep the emotions at bay. “I lost my father. I lost my father just as I started to see him as my father again. I lost my home, my entire life! Everyone I knew, all the friends I did have. You say you didn’t mean it when you said that I was here for pity but it’s not a lie. I’m only here because I have no where else to go. Don't you get it?” She asks, slumping onto the ground near her bed and leaning against the mattress.

The tears slide down her face as she looks toward the horizon, toward the city teeming with life even as the only thing filling her is death. “I'm an orphan. I have no one. My mother is gone, the one person that might have truly loved me without conditions. And my father, who I thought I could love again...gone. I have no one.”

Cassian sits down on the floor next to her and takes her hand. Nesta watches him take it, wondering if she should pull it back. She debates it but the contact, small as it may be, is so comforting. She hasn't touched anyone or let herself be touched, in any manner, in so long she'd started to forget what it felt like.

“Nesta that's not true,” Cassian says gently. “You have Feyre, you have Elain. You have all of us to be your family, your friends if that's all you want us to be.”

Nesta can see that Cassian is looking at her face, wanting to know if that's really all she wants him to be.

“You have me,” Cassian says.

Tentatively Cassian reaches out and wipes her tears away. Nesta sniffles but doesn't say anything. He debates trying to embrace her but doesn't want to push his luck or make her uncomfortable. It's a small miracle she's letting him hold her hand.

“That day on the battlefield,” Nesta says, composing herself. “You kissed me.”

“Yes” comes Cassian’s hoarse reply. He's not sure what she's going to say.

“Why?”

Nesta turns, and for the first time in what feels like an eternity, looks Cassian in the eyes. He feels his breath catch. Cauldron she's beautiful, even more so up close, her face unmarried by anger or bitterness only slight confusion in the furrowing of her brow. From here Cassian can make out the gray adorning her blue eyes, the exact shade of blue coloring her irises that are now trained on him. Cassian doesn't know what to say, he can barely remember the question.

“Cassian,” she asks again, in a tone Cassian’s never heard her use before. Apprehensive. Nervous. “Why did you kiss me?”

“Because I love you,” Cassian answers before he can stop to think about it.

Cassian sees Nesta’s eyes widen and he starts to panic. But she doesn't move away, just goes back to staring out at the city.  Cassian didn't know what he'll do if she says that she didn't want it, doesn't want _him_. The unease roils in his gut as Nesta says nothing at all.

“Do it again,” Nesta says finally.

“ _What?”_ Cassian asks, caught completely off guard.

“Kiss me again,” Nesta says. “Please.”

Slowly tentatively Cassian gets closer, moving in his chair. Nesta is looking up at him with big, hopeful eyes. Cassian's breathing is shaky. He leans forward until his lips are ghosting over hers. Until finally, he presses his lips to hers. The feel of her lips on his…Cassian feels drunk. Like he can't think straight. His hands move to Nesta’s face, framing it. He feels her own hands tangle in his hair, pulling him even closer.

Cassian doesn't know how long they stay there like that. Not very long. When Nesta pulls away she’s looking up at Cassian, her eyes full of something Cassian’s never seen before.

“I’m sorry,” Nesta says. “I’m sorry for calling you a bastard and hurting you when I know how you were treated because of it. Rhysand doesn’t keep you here out of pity. He keeps you here because you’re an amazing, wonderful person that anyone would be happy to have in their lives, even for a fraction of a second, and I’m so sorry that I ever suggested otherwise.” She’s fiddling with a loose thread on the edge of her shirt. “Cassian, you’re a good man, better than I deserve that’s for damn sure. If I ever made you feel otherwise, forgive me.”

Cassian is speechless. He came in here expecting a halfhearted apology and now that he’s confronted with this he doesn’t know what to say or do.

“Nesta, I love you,” Cassian says again at a loss for other words. “I don’t know what else to say. I love you.”

The smallest smile forms on Nesta’s face and it takes Cassian’s breath away. He leans in and kisses her again, letting himself savor it. Nesta doesn’t hesitate to put her arms around his neck pulling him closer. Cassian lets her bring him as close as she wants, feeling her body against his. The contact is enough to make him want to groan.

As he’s kissing Nesta he feels something, like a tugging. It’s grows more intense and Cassian gasps as he pulls away.

“What’s wrong?” Nesta asks breathlessly. “Cassian?”

Cassian stares up at her like she’s the sun, the moon, the universe itself in all it’s glory.

“You’re my mate,” he says in awe.

“You feel it,” Nesta says.

Cassian nods.

Nesta smiles with tears in her eyes.

“You feel it too?” Cassian asks.

“For weeks,” Nesta admits.  

“What?!” Cassian asks. “When?”

“When we got back. You were all talking. And you were telling a story, laughing. And I realized…” Nesta pauses and stays quiet for a second. “And I realized I never wanted to see the smile come off your face. I could watch and listen to you laugh forever.”

Cassian stares at her speechlessly as she fiddles with the end of her braid, eyes trained on the loose strands.

“Say something!” Nesta says finally.

“I love you,” Cassian says.

Nesta giggles. _Giggles_. And says, “Is that all you’re going to say?”

“I think that’s all I can say,” Cassian tells her. “I don’t even know what else I would say.”

Nesta laughs again. She puts her arms around his neck and says, “Cassian, I love you.”

Hearing those words is like music to Cassian’s ears.

“Say it again,” he asks Nesta.

“I love you, Cassian. I love you. I love you so much I can barely think straight.”

Cassian feels like he's floating. Riding a wave of joy that doesn't seem to have an end. When Nesta smiles Cassian would swear that the sun shone brighter in the sky.

Distantly, they hear a door open and someone sniff deeply.

“Finally!” Rhysand says loudly. “I thought they'd never realize it.”

Feyre and Mor’s laughs float down the hall.

“Well,” Cassian says, letting Nesta rest her head against his chest. “At least we can cross off that conversation.”

Nesta laughs, and Cassian smiles wider than he has in months.

“I’d better not hear you two tonight!” comes Mor’s voice suddenly, sounding like she’s right outside. “Feyre and Rhysand are bad enough!”

Cassian shouts an insult at her as she walks away, her laugh trailing down the hall.

There’s a glint in Nesta’s eye as she looks at Cassian. “Why make them wait until tonight?”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! It's been a while since I posted here but I just finished ACOWAR and I'm dying to see more of Nesta and Cassian. But since the other books are coming out who-knows-when I decided to write this. I was very tired when I wrote this lmao so sorry if there's any errors. Also, leave comments if you'd like, I thrive off of other people's attention.


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